


blood in my veins, the shadow of you

by airspaniel



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Biting, Cunnilingus, Dominance, Family Dynamics, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Rimming, Scratching, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voice Kink, implied parent/child incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5604763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/pseuds/airspaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Kalique softened her voice and called out to him again. “Balem. Do not imagine for a moment that you are alone in these thoughts.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Yes, brother,” Titus contributed, placing reverent kisses down the curve of Kalique's stomach, speaking with lips and tongue against the thin skin of her hip. “There is no need to bear the burden by yourself.”</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Love and mourning, in unequal measure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blood in my veins, the shadow of you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WaywardWyvern](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardWyvern/gifts).



> I missed posting this to the Yuletide Madness collection by less than a minute, but that's all right. Abrasax family feels and just... just so much porn. So much porn. Happy slightly belated Yuletide, WaywardWyvern, and a happy new year!

“Do you ever think of her?” Kalique asked, innocently enough.

“Of course,” replied Titus, ever the dutiful son. He ran gentle fingertips up the inside of Kalique's forearm, the skin petal-soft and gleaming under his hand, and she laughed.

“I meant,” she said, turning her arm under his touch, reveling in the silk glide of perfect flesh. “Do you ever _think_ about her?”

Titus pressed her back into the divan, lifting her hand above her head and holding it there, fingers tight around her own as he closed his lips over her pulse. Oh, yes. He took her meaning quite clearly.

“It would be foolish to deny that I have,” he murmured, kissing up her palm and flicking his tongue against the pad of her thumb. “That I do.” He whispered the last, drawing her index finger into his mouth and sucking softly. Kalique shivered.

“I know you do,” she said, steady voice in defiance of her pulse. “But you are not the only one to whom I speak.” She turned her head toward the balcony, regarding her other brother who sat sullenly staring into the void, feathered cloak thrown over his otherwise bare torso. Ever the dramatic.

“Brother dearest,” she called, causing Titus to bite down something less than kindly, for he knew she was not addressing him. “Will you not answer me?”

Still he remained, tortured and stoic, staring at nothing – _nothing_ – when he could have been feasting his eyes on the true beauty of their blood. Suddenly his mood seemed little more than childish pique, and Kalique was profoundly irritated.

“Balem.”

He turned to face her, slowly, as a great owl might survey his territory; searching out the hidden places where prey might hide. “What would you have me say, my sister?”

Pleased, Kalique arched back into the cushions, burying her hand in Titus's hair and guiding his mouth to her bare breast. He hesitated for a moment, doubtless contemplating some pointless rebellion against her control, but ultimately chose not to turn up his nose at such a gift. Her nipple was rose-pink, perfect and taut, and he suckled eagerly. She smiled. “I would have you be honest, my dear,” she replied. “And were that not possible, I would simply have you.”

“What does your fleshly desire have to do with my honesty?” Balem sneered at her, looking back to the darkness. “Or our mother?”

Kalique laughed. “You say that as if you genuinely do not know! Come now, brother. I've never known self-deception to be one of your faults.”

He drew his cloak closer to his chest and she knew her remark had struck true. She softened her voice and called out to him again. “Balem. Do not imagine for a moment that you are alone in these thoughts.”

“Yes, brother,” Titus contributed, placing reverent kisses down the curve of Kalique's stomach, speaking with lips and tongue against the thin skin of her hip. “There is no need to bear the burden by yourself.”

“What do you know of burdens?” Balem hissed, seemingly to himself. Kalique spread her legs at the urging of Titus's hands, allowing him to rest between them and gaze upon her nakedness, but not to touch. Not yet.

“Only that they are lighter when shared,” said Titus, slightly breathless. “And what else is family for than to share the burdens of life, sister, _please_...”

“Titus,” Kalique said, permission and entreaty in one. The soft sound of need that choked its way out of his throat was muffled against her inner thigh, his breath a warm flush against the wet heat of her center, and Kalique hummed in satisfaction as he put his talented tongue to work.

“And this...” Balem said from his seat at the window, not looking but pointedly so, in a tense manner that suggested this aloofness was taking all of his resolve. “Is this how the burden is to be shared? Is this what family does?”

“It is what _we_ do,” Kalique replied. “And never once before now have you pretended to be above it.” Indeed, in the past he had been a willing participant in their games, often the instigator, ever eager to take what he felt was his due as the eldest heir. “Are you above it, dear brother?” she taunted. “Or is it that our touch is a poor substitute for that which you truly crave?”

Titus moaned at her words, driving his fingers deep inside of her, the sound and sensation combining to make her gasp and clutch at his hair. He arched into her hold as a cat would, and redoubled his efforts. Balem said nothing, but met her stare with his own, and the blood-red flush that lit his cheekbones drove her over the precipice as much as anything Titus had done. She cried out, unrestrained in her pleasure, her legs tightening around her brother's shoulders. She could feel Titus's smug laugh, damn him, but he didn't move away; just lapped at her gently until she stilled.

Balem had not looked away, red-stained down his perfect chest, blotchy and _human_ and beautiful beyond the telling of it. “Is that it, dearest?” Kalique asked, trembling. “Are we no longer good enough for you?”

He swallowed heavily, and it was a long moment before he spoke. “Must everything be about you, sister?” he countered, reaching for that impassive mask once more. “How I feel about my mother...”

“ _Our_ mother,” Titus corrected, lips and chin still slick with her, an open challenge. Bless him. He could always be relied upon to raise stakes.

“I wasn't talking to you!” Balem spit, rising from his perch at last. If Titus was in the least intimidated, he did not show it. Instead he made a show of running his tongue over his smiling lips, chasing her taste; capturing the lower one in his teeth and holding it there until it was as red and ripe as fruit.

“And yet I speak,” said Titus. “For I am intimately involved in the discussion at hand.” He crooked his fingers where they still were buried within her, and Kalique whimpered in renewed arousal.

“Never one for subtlety, were you, Titus?” she asked, hypothetically. He leaned down and nipped at her hip, biting a soft red line over the bone.

“Only when it's absolutely necessary, dear sister, but it's not really my style. Especially when there is much to be gained from a direct approach.” Laying his head upon her stomach, he turned his attention once more to Balem, who had moved but a little closer. Still, progress was progress. “And I believe the lady asked you a question, brother. Several of them, in fact.”

Balem narrowed his eyes, considering. “And which would you have me answer?”

“Well as to the first, I know the answer already. I know you think of her, as I do, as Kalique does. Her beautiful dark eyes, the soft brown curls of her hair... her touch, like sinking into a warm bath. Comfort and love and perfect affection, insulating a core of unquestionable dominance. How could you not think of her? How could you not ache with the loss?”

“You think you know much,” Balem said, but did not protest.

“I do know much,” Titus replied. “It is her blood in my veins, and in Kalique's. And in yours, brother mine, as it has always been. You cannot hide from us.” He slipped his fingers free, trailing slick warmth up his sister's side as he shifted above her.

“And what of my last, Titus?” she murmured, tipping her head back to look at Balem, who was almost near enough to touch, now.

“Are we no longer good enough?” Titus repeated her question, kissing her exposed throat. “Oh, my darling... I don't believe we ever were.”

“Silence!” Balem's order echoed in the marble chamber. He knelt beside them, fisting a hand in Titus's hair and pulling his head sharply back. “You do not speak for me.”

Titus laughed. “Then tell me I am wrong. Prove to me our worth.”

Balem hesitated. “I... I owe you nothing.”

“Yet we would give you much,” Kalique said, reaching her hand out to him. “My brother, please.”

“Yes, brother,” Titus parroted, mocking. “ _Please._ ”

“You insolent...” Balem snarled, then forced his lips against Titus's, a clash of teeth and tender flesh that looked as painful as it undoubtedly was, but neither of them relented. The kiss, if one could call it a kiss, went on and on, more warfare than love.

Kalique scarcely suppressed her delighted reaction. She twined her fingers in her brothers' hair, short reddish locks in one hand and long mahogany waves in the other, anchoring them both with touch. Her hand met Balem's, still clenched in Titus's hair, and she felt his grip ease slightly. Titus laughed, breaking the kiss to press his face, cat-like, against the side of Balem's own.

“You are insufferable,” Balem said, no real heat in it. “And a hedonist.”

Titus nudged his cloak to the side, baring his shoulder. “Is that meant to be an insult?”

Balem sighed, but obligingly let the cloak fall to his elbow. “It is only the truth.”

“Histrionic ass,” Titus countered, nibbling affectionately at his brother's collarbone. Balem tugged at his hair again and Titus bit down hard, leaving a matched set of crescent-shaped bruises.

“Silly boys,” Kalique said, feeling a bit left out. She tugged at the other side of Balem's cloak until it fell free, pooling around his waist, forearms and wrists still covered by inky feathers and black velvet. “Would you really prefer to fight?” she asked, arching her back slightly to pose an alternative.

“He started it,” Titus and Balem both said in unison, startling a giggle out of her. She sat up, folding her legs underneath her, hip pressed to Titus's thigh and hands curled around Balem's biceps.

“I think you'll find that _I_ started it,” she said, leaning in to tease Balem's lips with her own as she spoke. “And I intend to finish it.”

He closed the distance between them, kissing her with all the tenderness and care that Titus had not received. His hands stole into her hair, lifting the heavy curls away from her neck, and she shivered at the soft caress of the cool air on her damp skin. She rose up on her knees to get a better angle, running her fingertips over his broad shoulders, pressing her palm to the hot mark left by Titus's teeth. Balem breathed a quiet sound into her mouth, and Kalique smiled.

“Finish it how, dear sister?” Titus asked as he moved behind her, his chest warm against her back; a hard line of heat against her soft flesh. She spread her legs slightly, stretched between her brothers.

“Balem is right,” she said, tipping her head back to rest on Titus's shoulder. “You are insufferable.”

He chuckled, a sweet resonating hum she felt all the way down her spine, and Balem huffed out a small noise that might, _might_ have been a laugh. He freed his hands from his fallen cloak and brought them up to cup her breasts, long fingers nearly spanning her ribcage. Kalique pushed forward into his touch, encouraging.

“Yes...” she murmured, surging up again to capture Balem's lips with her own. He responded eagerly this time, one hand sliding back to press between her shoulder blades, pulling her even closer. His hand was cool against her flushed skin, trapped now between her body and Titus's, but he did not attempt to move. She felt Titus reach out, almost tentative in his movements as he lifted his hand to Balem's face, tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone as they kissed. Kalique drew back, only for a second, only to see, and it was beautiful... the way Balem's eyes had fallen closed, long lashes brushing his cheek, as Titus's fingertips stroked back over his temple, caressing the shorter hair that was faintly threaded through with silver before curving around his surprisingly delicate ears. Balem shuddered slightly, and Kalique kissed him again.

“What do you want, Balem?” Titus said, softer and more sincere then he'd been before. “Here. In this moment.”

Balem didn't open his eyes. “Distract me,” he said. She could feel Titus hide his grin against the back of her neck.

"As you wish," Kalique said sliding her hands down to rest over the elaborate gold collar Balem wore. When her thumbs stroked over the hidden clasps, he seized her wrists, holding her still, but not pushing her away.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with utmost seriousness. "No," he replied, but released her hands. She slid the clasps open, carefully removing the collar and placing it aside. His throat was pale and perfect, but still he shivered when she reached out, and shut his eyes again when her fingertips touched him; stoic yet afraid.

"Sensitive," Kalique said, half a question, as she leaned in and kissed Balem again, slow and soothing until he once more began to relax under her hands. Titus shifted to the side, a movement Kalique was not concerned with until Balem broke away from her, gasping. She pulled back to see Titus's open mouth millimeters away from touching Balem's throat.

"Don't..." Balem warned, but it was small and breathless.

"Don't... stop?" Titus said, brushing his lips lightly against Balem's skin. "Dear brother, I had no intention."

"Play nicely, Titus," Kalique admonished. It was one thing to push limits, and another entirely to cause distress, and she could feel the way Balem was right on that line.

"I am," said Titus, pressing a kiss over Balem's pulse. "Very nicely." His tongue swept over his bottom lip, dampening the flesh, almost incidentally flicking against his brother's skin. Balem's breath caught, and Titus took it as an invitation, licking deliberately this time, all soft lips and tongue, teeth safely tucked away. The tremble in Balem's elegant hands was as much arousal now as it was nervousness.

“Do you truly think I would harm you?” Titus asked, lips moving softly and reverently against Balem's pulse. He pressed his chest against his brother's back, pulling him closer. “I would never hurt you” he purred, though the sharp way his fingernails dug into Balem's chest gave lie to his words. “Unless, of course, that's what you wanted.”

Balem arched into the scratch of his brother's nails. “Do it, you impertinent child,” he taunted, hissed through his teeth. “Anything to stop your mouth.”

Titus chuckled. “As you wish.” His nails raked across Balem's nipple, and at the same time his teeth closed on the side of Balem's throat. He bit viciously, worrying the skin until it was angry and bruised, only to repeat the motion.

Balem twisted in his grip and cried out, and Kalique was there to soothe him, soft words and soft lips following the long red marks scored by Titus's hands. She kissed her way down his sculpted chest, feeling the jump of his abdominal muscles under her fingertips as they slid low, dipping underneath body-warmed black silk to brush the hidden heat of his cock.

“There you are,” Kalique murmured, drawing him out, and she smiled to feel Titus's hand helping divest Balem of his clothing, pushing the silk down over sharp hipbones. Balem shuddered and leaned into her hands, kneeling up so Titus could remove his trousers completely, and then there was nothing between them but skin.

“Oh, I have missed this,” said Titus, watching Kalique's hand move on Balem's hardness, his mouth watering at the sight. “It has been too long.”

The sound that hitched its way out of Balem's throat was faint and foreign. “I should have known your silence was short-lived,” he laughed, and Titus grinned radiantly in response.

“Is there something else my mouth should be used for?” he teased, leaning in as if to steal a kiss, but remaining a hairs-breadth away. He raked his nails down Balem's torso again, softer this time, scratching gently as he reached the nest of dark auburn hair that framed Balem's cock and his knuckles brushed his sister's hand.

Kalique tightened her hand possessively, pulling a moan from Balem's throat. “I'm afraid I have other plans,” she said, not afraid or apologetic at all. She laid back against the divan, pulling her brothers with her until Balem was a solid weight above her, and Titus was warm against both their sides. She drew her knees up, framing Balem's hips with her thighs in unmistakable offering. “Will you, my brother?”

“Please,” Balem said, as if he were the one who had made the request. He shifted his weight to move a hand down and align himself, but was stopped by Titus's hand on his hip.

“Allow me,” said Titus, reaching between his siblings' bodies to take Balem's cock in his hand. He stroked just once, slowly, from the slick tip all the way to the root, spreading the wetness down his shaft. Then he turned his hand, ran clever fingers over Kalique's aching cunt, just enough to feel her heat, her readiness.

“Titus, don't tease!” Kalique gasped. He smothered a laugh in Balem's shoulder and took him in hand once again, guiding him into position.

“We would never leave you wanting, dear sister,” Titus said, and Balem didn't bristle at the inclusive, but pressed his hips forward, mouth open in a soundless expression of pleasure. Kalique arched her back and hummed in satisfaction as she was filled.

“ _Yes,_ ” she sighed.

“ _Kalique_ ,” said Balem, quiet and awed. “It has been so long, oh my love...”

“Yes,” she repeated, an agreement and a plea all at once. “No longer, _please_ , don't make me wait.” He began to move in earnest, and she whispered “yes” against his lips, his cheek, his ear, over and over again.

“What do you think, brother?” Titus asked, lounging next to them as they fucked, stroking himself almost casually. “Are you distracted? Is this enough for you, or do you want more?”

“I want,” Balem started, then stopped on a ragged moan as Kalique rolled her hips beneath him. He closed his eyes against the pleasure, and when he reopened them to glare at Titus, the heat in his eyes was not entirely from anger. Titus saw and pressed forward.

“What was that?” said Titus, threading a hand into Balem's hair and pulling his head back, keeping their gazes locked. “You want something?”

Balem bit his own lip, eyes losing focus as he warred with his own arousal. “ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed, heartfelt. “Your _mouth_...”

Titus lifted an eyebrow. “You want to fuck my mouth?” he asked playfully. “It seems like you're well taken care of in that regard.”

“That's not...”

“But,” Titus cut him off, moving behind him again and kissing down his spine. “Perhaps an inverse solution would serve.”

Balem cried out sharply at the first touch of Titus's tongue between his cheeks, hips stuttering in their rhythm, unsure whether to press forward or shove back. Titus gripped him tightly, fingers digging bruises against Balem's hipbones as he held him still; kept him spread for his mouth.

“Titus!” Kalique protested, working her body in arching pulses to keep Balem's cock where she needed it. She had been so _close_ , and the shallow twitches inside her were nowhere near enough now.

Titus slipped fingers into his mouth, working his tongue along them as much as his brother's flesh, getting them slick-wet. “Apologies,” he murmured, pressing a final kiss to Balem's rim before driving a finger into his body. The grip on his hips released, Balem surged forward into Kalique, making her moan, and Titus followed him down, keeping his finger deep and twisting a second in alongside.

“ _Oh!_ ” Kalique gasped, ecstatic. The soft rhythmic sounds Balem was making were nearly sobs, his rhythm faltering as Titus fucked him and Kalique writhed and clenched around his cock. Her hand snaked down between their bodies, rubbing hard and fast at her clit until she came with a broken cry, and then slower, drawing out her orgasm. Balem shuddered, but did not spill, eyes clenched shut.

“Yes, oh yes,” Titus groaned encouragement, fingers relentless against that place inside Balem that made stars explode across his vision.

“Oh, love...” Kalique sighed, her hand still moving on herself, the delicious tension building in her once again. “I've got you.”

Balem's eyes flew open, and her curls were the wrong color and her skin was too pale and her eyes were a shade too light, but she loved him, she _loved_ him, and it was close enough. He drove into her hard, two, three more times, and came, smothering himself in the soft skin of her shoulder. She shivered underneath him, clenching around him in waves.

“I've got you,” she repeated, barely a whisper, and held his face against her throat until they both stilled. For a moment, all was safety and warmth.

“As touching as this is,” Titus said, strained, his hard cock arching blood-dark against his stomach. “And it is beautiful, you're _beautiful_ , both of you, my god...” He took himself in hand and squeezed, too much and not enough. “But aren't you forgetting something?”

“Are you feeling neglected, Titus?” Kalique teased, leaning up on her elbows. “Poor darling. What do you want?”

Balem said nothing, but turned his head towards his brother, watching.

“What will you give me?” Titus asked, a better question.

“I believe,” said Balem, imperious despite his disheveled condition. “that the lady asked you a question. Answer her.”

“Oh, god,” Titus mumbled, grinning, hand moving helplessly on himself. “Your ridiculous voice is as good as a touch, brother, and I have missed you, I have, _oh..._ ”

Kalique laughed softly and nudged Balem, and he smiled back at her. “Is that your answer then, Titus?” Balem said, something playful in his tone. “You want me to talk to you? To give you commands?”

Titus's eyes flashed in challenge. “It is a rare opportunity, my brother,” he said, voice beginning to break around his panting breaths. “How often do you think I will obey you?”

“Silence,” Balem ordered. “If you cannot, I will silence you myself.”

“ _Please,_ ” Titus cried, making a show of his begging as he stroked faster still. “Please, brother, your _hand_.”

Balem immediately pressed two fingers into Titus's gasping mouth. Titus moaned ecstatically, sucking and licking at Balem's fingers as if he could coax them to orgasm, even as he desperately fought for his own.

Balem smiled. “Come, Titus,” he said, and it was done.

 


End file.
